Has it really only been eight years since Chris Stapleton
unleashed Traveller? In retrospect, the record paved the way for the artists
who have mounted a campaign vs mainstream “bro country”. Even as he continues
to collect awards and accolades, becoming a ubiquitous and recognizable face in
popular music, Stapleton seems to work from an admirable pool of humility and
good taste. No one project has eclipsed the impact of that first solo venture,
though everything he’s released has been as good as we’ve gotten from a
country-affiliated artist.
His fifth full-length, Higher, is more satisfying than trailblazing, less a bar-raiser than a reminder of the consistent quality of Stapleton’s artistry. A generous 14 tracks, the collection addresses love in many of its earthly expressions, from moments of weakness to abiding gratitude, from commitment to good old lust. Cowritten with Miranda Lambert, “What Am I Gonna Do” finds the narrator dreading a life without the person they’ve come to cherish, even as they recognize that the relationship may be in the rear view mirror. The mid-tempo country number bears the soulful stamp we’ve come to expect from the genre’s strongest vocalist, solidly backed by his wife Morgane’s own lovely delivery: Been drinking everything on that shelf / Feels like I’m killing myself / You’re gone and it hurts like hell / Wishing I was anybody else. A classic ode to relationship, the ballad “It Takes a Woman” is a simple and unhurried gem, destined for repeated playing at weddings and anniversaries: Whenever I’m broken / Honey you heal me / When I’m in the dark / You are the light.
Co-produced by the Stapletons with the reliable David Cobb, Higher betrays few if any missteps in its thoughtfully reliable arrangement. Their projects have always been less about purity than about a melting pot of roots-related genres. “South Dakota” is a darker blues-rock with a spidery guitar line a’la Tony Joe White. The state’s tourism board would be wise to avoid the song for any future publicity campaign: Nights are long as the day is cold / Staying alive is getting old. Grittier tracks stand out on an LP that skews decidedly towards mid-tempo and ballads. At the album’s halfway point, the phenomenal “White Horse” serves as a disrupter, going all-in on arena-ready electric guitars and throat-shredding vocals, checking boxes for cliches and familiar tropes even as it stands among the year’s best singles: If you want a cowboy on a white horse / Riding off into the sunset / If that’s the kind of love you wanna wait for / Hold on tight girl, I ain’t there yet. Blessed by Paul Franklin’s pedal steel, “Crosswind” is a textbook trucking-as-life number that grants Stapleton’s band a bit of room to stretch and loosen.
Just three of Higher’s songs feature Chris Stapleton as sole writer. Many of the record’s co-writes credit a handful of contributors, though there is a directness and simplicity to most of the collection, hardly seeming like the work of several hands. While certain songs deliver more clever or poetic turns of phrase, Stapleton is more an exceptional singer than an outstanding lyricist. The steady percolating “The Fire” asks: I hear your name / Through the wind and rain / Why can’t you see / The fire inside me. The title cut praises another as: the sunrise that turns my night into day. But even these songs bear the singer’s unmatched vocal ability. While he’s best known for his shredding delivery on songs like “Cold” or “Tennessee Whiskey”, Stapleton ventures into a lovely, breathy upper register on that title track. The songs would be less remarkable if delivered by a lesser singer. Chris Stapleton is ultimately what makes them memorable.
Like Bonnie Raitt, Stapleton’s work is remarkable in its consistent quality and decency. Rather than struggle for new heights from album to album, he has largely remained in the same pocket he established eight years ago. As a body of work, Stapleton’s recordings with the Jompson Brothers, Steeldrivers, duets, one-off singles, and solo records, he rivals only Jason Isbell in terms of reliability. Another of Higher’s outstanding songs, “Mountains Of My Mind” is notable as the sessions' only moment featuring solely the man and his acoustic guitar. As such, it is striking in its vulnerability: There’s an empty table / And a well-worn wooden chair / Just waiting for me in the middle of nowhere. The country-soul of “Think I’m In Love With You” or “Loving You On My Mind” will merit more repeated spins, but it’s in this more subtle moment that the quiet brilliance of Chris Stapleton speaks most clearly.
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